


A Rebirth

by Caitybug



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Renaissance, art history talk, it's a babysitting au, it's a rebirth my dudes, smooch smooch, y'all I'm tired so sorry for the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitybug/pseuds/Caitybug
Summary: Simon and Baz need to finish their presentation for their Art History class. However, Baz also got pulled into watching his younger siblings for the weekend.Frozen 2, chicken nuggets, sword fights, and themes of Renaissance.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 27
Kudos: 208





	A Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KrisRix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisRix/gifts).



> Thanks so much for even clicking on this!
> 
> This is for [KrisRix](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/krisrix)  
> who wanted to see Snowbaz with kids... and I kind of took it much further than I think he wanted. 
> 
> Also shoutout to [Pip](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pipsqueakparker) for beta reading this for me :).
> 
> (I hope you like it!)

Simon is standing outside Baz’s house wondering how he ended up here. (More like Baz’s mansion. This isn’t a normal house.)

They need to work on their presentation for art history. 

_ The Renaissance _ . A ‘rebirth’, a more in-depth look at the individual. 

Simon just wanted it to be  _ over _ . There were statues, paintings, the Sistine Chapel. All very cool, of course, but this art-history class was the bane of his existence.

He steps forward and knocks twice on the door.

_ Maybe he won’t answer _ .

When his advisor made him sign up for art history, she told him it’d be  _ easy _ . 

“Hello,” Baz says, opening the door. A smile lingers on Baz’s lips, and Simon hears laughter in the background. 

He gestures for Simon to come in.

“Thanks for coming over today, I know we’d meant to meet at the library,” Baz says as Simon takes his shoes off. “My mother asked me to watch the twins and I know this is due in two days.” 

“It’s no problem,” Simon replies on reflex. 

It is a  bit . The bus ride here was torturous. There was a man next to him who kept hitting his side with his elbow while flossing his teeth. 

“Mordelia, can you manage to make sure the twins don’t die while Simon and I work on our project?” Baz asks. There is a girl, Mordelia, Simon assumes, sitting in a chair in their sitting room. 

She’s got her legs dangled off the side, a book in her hands (Goosebumps), and her hair is thrown up into a large messy bun on top of her head. 

“Mom isn’t paying  _ me _ to watch them,” she replies without looking up.

“She’s not paying me either,” Baz retorts. “And they’re more your siblings than mine, so it’s time to step up.” 

He crosses his arms, and his whole body says stern, but he has a small smirk on his lips.

Simon hadn’t considered the possibility that Baz had siblings. He always assumed he was just a dark and brooding figure, living in the depths of solitude in a one-bedroom high rise in the city. He had the air of a posh millionaire who looks out his large windows at the city lights, a glass of Chardonnay in one hand, his phone in the other, ready to destroy the world.

Instead, Baz is standing here in  _ jeans _ and his Watford football shirt, arguing with his younger sibling.

“Fine,” she groans, “but I’m shouting for you at the first sign of trouble.”

“I would hope so,” Baz responds, turning back around and facing Simon. “We can go to the kitchen, it’s close enough to hear if any trouble happens. And it’s close to the food.” 

Simon glares but nods,  _ Food doesn’t sound half bad _ .

“Want something to drink?” Baz asks, opening the fridge. “We’ve got milk, soda, apple juice even if you’re up to it.” 

The chuckle at the mention of apple juice makes Simon smile too.

_ He’s not used to that either _ .

“Water is okay,” he replies, taking a seat at the counter. 

Baz grabs two glasses for water along with a package of crisps and a few Jaffa cakes.

“I assume you like these,” he says, pointing to the cakes. 

Simon nods. They’re sweet and covered in chocolate, what’s not to like?

“What are your sibling’s names?” Simon asks, opening the crisps and taking a bite. 

He immediately gags _. _

“Well Mordelia is the one we talked to in the sitting room,” Baz replies, moving back to the cupboard, “the twins, who are currently watching Frozen 2 are Acantha and Ophelia, and then there is my youngest brother, Magnus, who is a baby. But he is with my mother and father while they’re out of town this weekend.”

“Why couldn’t they take the rest of them as well?” Simon asks, reaching for his water.

_ Salt and vinegar crisps. What kind of monster…? _

“They have school, Snow,” Baz replies, putting a package of regular crisps on the table, “also Mordelia has a football match this weekend.” 

Simon nods, reaching for a Jaffa cake. 

“So you have to watch them for the weekend?” Simon asks.

“Yes,” Baz moves to the seat next to Simon, pulling out his computer. “Mainly it’s just food and driving. My aunt Fiona is helping, too, but she had to be somewhere tonight so it’s just me.” 

Simon nods in acknowledgment, watching as Baz opens their presentation up on his laptop. 

“Okay, so,” he starts, “the  _ Renaissance _ .”

“Ah yes, the Renaissance,” Simon repeats, pulling out his notes. "I remember it well."

Baz smiles a little at the joke.

“Okay, so we need to focus on the characteristics of the Renaissance,” Baz starts. “We’ve got our bits on examples of works, and what the Renaissance is, so once we finish this bit we should be good.”

_ The Renaissance (n); a revival of or renewed interest in something. A rebirth.  _

That’s something they’ve heard a lot.

Renaissance means ‘rebirth’. 

That phrase haunts Simon in his sleep. 

“Want to read from the notes and I can type?” Baz suggests, looking over at him. 

He nods and looks down and starts to speak. 

“During the Renaissance, there is a gradual shift from the abstract to representational.” Simon reads. “Meaning-”

“That art is coming from real sources,” Baz completes, typing in a slide. “So instead of it being something more abstract, or representing reality, it shows what’s real. Something not concocted in our imagination.”

Simon nods. 

There’s a scream from the other room, which makes Baz turn slightly. 

“We’re okay!” Mordelia shouts. 

Simon looks worried, but Baz shrugs and turns back to his laptop.

_ Must not be too big a deal then _ .

“Okay, another part,” Baz continues, opening another slide. 

“Human figures are often rendered in dynamic poses,” Simon continues. 

_ A crash _ .

“We’re fine!” Modelia shouts again. 

“They show expression, use gestures, and interact with one another.” Simon reads, trying to avoid acknowledging the obvious chaos in the other room.

Baz nods, typing along. 

“So there’s more detail, characters are brought to life.”

A scream.

“BASIL!” Mordelia shouts. “I NEED YOU.”

With a resigned sigh, Baz gets up from his chair. 

“One moment,” he says. 

His demeanor is calm, but almost terrifyingly so. 

Simon looks around the kitchen for a moment, taking it all in. 

It’s... cozy. Not at all fitting what Simon thought Baz’s home would be like. The walls are a soft blue, a window is open over the kitchen sink, letting both sunlight and cool spring air in. 

There are a few tile pieces leaning against the window ledge with children’s art painted on them. 

Simon stands to look closer. 

A tree is painted on one with a sun in the upper corner. 

In neat handwriting, it says;  _ Basilton G-P ‘02 _ .

It’s so utterly adorable and sweet, and it makes Simon’s image of Baz shift. 

“Sorry about that, apparently they decided to play Frozen with their dolls and both of them wanted to be Elsa,” Baz sighs, taking his seat again. 

“This is cute,” Simon says, pointing at the tile. “I didn’t know you had such a fondness for the arts.” 

Baz rolls his eyes.

“Yes, well, you could say I peaked when I was five.”

“I think my mum has one where I drew a dog. It’s properly frightening.”

“How so?” Baz asks, standing to move next to him. 

“It looks less like a dog, and more like what you’d imagine was under your bed when you were a child.” Simon laughs.

It makes Baz smile and let out a huff in laughter. 

Simon’s chest feels warm. 

_That's new_.

“Look, I understand if you’re feeling a bit crazed with the kids,” Simon says, “so if you’d rather work on it separately that’s okay.” 

He feels guilty. It’s obviously chaotic for Baz to be juggling school and also being the eldest sibling. 

“Nonsense,” Baz says waving him off. “Unless you’d rather not deal with it. I would understand.”

Simon deflates. 

He isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t  _ want _ to leave quite yet.

Not when Baz, the boy he thought was stuck up and rigid, is actually soft and smiling.

He’s got his hair pulled into a messy bun, much like his sister’s.

_ It shouldn’t look so good _ .

“No, no, it’s no problem,” Simon replies. “I just didn’t want to impose.”

_ Not when I’m finally figuring you out _ .

_ Not when you’re transforming from the abstract to reality _ .

Another crash.

“Fucking Christ,” Baz mutters.

“Do you want some help?” Simon questions. 

He feels guilty standing by without helping.

“If,” a pause and a grimace, “you wouldn’t mind that’d be great.”

Simon smiles and follows him out of the kitchen, seemingly preparing for war. 

Which is how, for some unknown reason, Simon ends up staying for dinner. They’re all crammed in the kitchen, Simon and Baz dancing around with plates for the different kids (chicken nuggets for Acantha, fish sticks for Ophelia, and pepperoni pizza for Mordelia). 

There’s no sound other than chewing and the squirting of offensive amounts of ketchup for a few moments. Baz passes out napkins and refills the twin’s milk. 

“You know,” Simon starts, helping Baz clean off some of the dishes, “I didn’t take you to be so…  _ nurturing _ .”

Baz raises an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you’ve always been so,” he waves in the air as he thinks of the word, “uptight? I guess.”

“Uptight,” Baz repeats quietly.

“No,” Simon groans in frustration, “I just-” 

He sighs, letting it go for a moment. He's not the best with explaining his thoughts.

“It’s alright, Snow. I understand.” Baz tells him, putting a fork in the dishwasher. “I take school very seriously. That’s the only context you’ve seen me in. It makes sense.” 

“I take school seriously, too,” Simon replies.

He doesn’t want Baz to think he’s just messing around. School is important. He has a scholarship and  _ expectations _ just like everyone else. 

“I know, I think it’s just pressure I put on myself. My mother went to our school, many teachers still know her in fact. They know how  _ incredible _ she was. I want to do her memory justice.” 

His voice is soft, quiet. Simon wants to reach out. 

He’s heard stories, of course, they’re friends online. Simon has seen every year how he makes a post in her memory. It’s flooded with comments of love and support from people. 

Losing a parent can’t be easy.

A small pair of hands reaches up with a plate, covered in ketchup and crumbs. 

“Put it in the sink, Ophelia,” Baz tells her. 

She moves and stands on her toes to place the plate carefully in the sink before running off.

“Last one to the couch is a rotten egg!” She shouts.

“What?” Acantha shouts in reply. “No fair, I’m not done eating!” 

“No rotten eggs in this house!” Baz shouts, rinsing off Ophelia’s plate. “Only fresh laid eggs that I can scramble for breakfast with pancakes for tiny children who  _ don’t _ threaten their siblings.”

A pause.

“Fine!” Simon hears from the other room.

He can’t help but laugh.

“What do you want for dinner, Snow?” Baz asks. “Could do spaghetti or maybe a burger.”

Simon looks down at his watch. 

He could catch the bus at 9:40, stay a little longer.

“Sure!”

He needs to learn more, study the Baz that is slowly forming in front of him. 

“Which one, spaghetti or burger?” Baz asks.

“Yes,” Simon smiles. 

Baz rolls his eyes and mutters something about him being a human garbage disposal.

“At least I don’t eat Salt and Vinegar crisps,” Simon retorts.

“There’s an opinion of someone who obviously doesn’t want food tonight,” Baz replies with a smirk. 

Simon raises both hands in defeat. 

Another hour of playing passes; Simon finds a foam sword and duels the evil queen Mordelia. Unfortunately, he dies a tragic death at her hand, leading to sir Baz to start a coup with the twins in his honor, then bath time and, finally, time for bed. 

Baz is in Mordelia’s room tucking her in; Simon waits outside the door. 

He was tasked with the twins, which wasn’t hard. 

Or, well, it wasn’t hard once he gave in and read them three stories. 

“Is Simon your boyfriend?” Mordelia asks Baz with a yawn.

Simon freezes.

“What?” Baz replies. “No, what are you on about?”

“You have a crush on him, though, right? I’ve heard you tell Dev about it.” 

_ Does Baz have a crush on him? _

Simon’s chest tightens. 

“I think it’s time for you to sleep,” Baz says, avoiding the question. “Goodnight, Mordelia.”

Simon hears footsteps and moves back to the door of the twins. 

He hears a soft  _ I think he likes you too _ from Mordelia’s voice, and the tight feeling moves to his stomach. 

Baz steps out, a smile on his face, and Simon pretends he just stepped out as well. 

“Did they go to sleep alright?” Baz whispers.

Simon nods and they quietly make their way down the stairs.

He sees a clock nearby. 

_ 9:45. _

“Fuck,” he mutters. 

_ It was the last bus _ .

“What’s wrong?” Baz asks. 

They’ve made it back downstairs, voices a touch above a whisper, still afraid of waking any of the kids. 

“I’ve missed the last bus,” Simon answers. 

He’d ask Penny to come to get him, but she’s at a conference and won’t be back until Monday. 

“You could stay here,” Baz suggests, “if you wanted.”

Simon ponders for a moment.

No one else would be willing to come get him.

His mother’s at work.

_ His father’s in jail _ .

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, after everything you’ve put up with. I’m sure I could spare some pyjamas and a bed.” 

“Could work on our project?” Simon suggests. 

He doesn’t want to, though. 

“It’s a bit late, maybe television would be better.” 

Simon nods. It sounds  _ much _ better. 

They move to the living room, Simon in the chair and Baz sprawled out on the couch. 

Simon thinks of their assignment.

_ Human figures are often rendered in dynamic poses _ .

Baz’s legs, one draped over the back of the couch, the other bent to the side. His arm stretched high to point the remote at the television. 

_ Show expression _ . 

Baz’s face, frowning in concentration, changing the channel to find something worth their time. 

_ Interacting with one another _ .

“I can’t find anything,” Baz says, dropping his arm back down, and looking at Simon. 

Simon shakes his head. 

_ I think he likes you, too _ .

“Could watch a movie?” Simon replies. 

Baz sits up and stretches.

Simon sees a bit of skin show when his shirt slides up.

_ I think he likes you, too _ .

“What was it your siblings were watching earlier?” Simon asks, adjusting in the chair.

“Frozen 2,” Baz replies, standing up to move. “It’s not something you’ll want to watch, I promise you.” 

“I don’t see why not,” Simon shrugs. 

Baz gives him a weird look but presses a few buttons to get the movie started regardless. 

The movie starts and Simon tries his best to watch it.

It’s clear, however, that Baz has been forced to watch it many times. 

His mouth moves with the lyrics, his foot tapping to the beat. 

_ You have a crush on him, though, right? _

Simon looks at Baz. Really  _ looks _ .

He’s done this before, he realizes. Taken in the sight of him. His hair looks soft, falling slowly out of the hair tie he was using to hold it back. Baz has long fingers, probably (definitely judging by the piano in the other room) plays the piano. 

The way his heart jumped when Baz told Mordelia that he was avenging his death. How he felt he could melt to the ground watching the twins dance around him and chant that the evil queen was dead, while Mordelia laid “lifeless” on the ground.

_ Maybe Mordelia is smarter than either of them _ .

An undefined amount of time later Simon feels a soft shake on his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Baz whispers, “just thought you might want to move to a bed.” 

His face is close.  _ So close _ . 

Simon catches himself looking at his lips.

He catches himself wondering.

_ Would they feel warm? Soft? _

He blinks a couple times, dazed and sleepy.

“Yeah, uh,” he stretches, “sorry. Didn’t mean to pass out.”

“It’s alright,” Baz says, standing up. “Kids do that to you. They’re pretty exhausting.”

Simon gets a pair of pyjamas and goes to the guest room to sleep.

All he can think of is the boy across the hall.

_ You have a crush on him, though, right? _

Baz, the boy who drew a tree and a sun with sunglasses when he was five.

_ I think he likes you, too _ .

The boy who makes silly accents and only laughs a little when Simon has spaghetti  _ and  _ a burger for dinner.

It’s enough to drive him  _ mad _ . 

The next morning there is a lot of shuffling around, getting lunches together, and driving the twins to school. Mordelia hops into her carpool before they leave, giving a sly look between Simon and Baz, and a wave as she drives off. 

The twins get into the back of Baz’s car, complete with backpacks and water bottles. 

The car is quiet when they leave.

“Do you have class today?” Simon asks.

“No, I’ve got Thursdays off,” Baz replies. “You?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one at 12:15,” Simon moans.“Literature with Kram.”

Baz grimaces.

“He’s dreadful.”

“That’s an understatement,” Simon laughs.

Baz turns down the road back to their house.

“Do you need a ride?”

“Huh?”

“To school, I could drive you.”

_ Oh _ .

Simon hadn’t thought of that. Now the kids are gone, Baz would be free to drive him to school.

_ Could be an excuse to spend more time with him _ .

“No,” he says without thinking, “I can take the bus.”

_ Brain, what the fuck? _

“Okay,” Baz replies, pulling into the driveway and putting the car in park. 

They get out, and Simon grabs his things from the kitchen.

“I should go,” Simon says, pointing to the door. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

“Of course,” Baz replies with a smile. “Couldn’t well kick you out. Especially after you spent all that time helping me out.”

It’s awkward, leaving now. 

Simon starts walking down the driveway, thinking of what happened in the past twenty hours. 

Baz likes him. 

_ According to Mordelia _ , Simon’s brain supplies.

He likes Baz.

That he doesn’t need to ask more about. He’s taken it as a fact. 

The Baz in the abstract was cool and uptight.

But the Baz, in reality, is soft and cozy. He’s a warm blanket next to a fire and a laugh at a stupid joke. 

Simon turns around and sees Baz standing on the porch, going through the mail, and makes a decision. 

“Hey!” He shouts, walking back to him.

Baz lifts his head and an eyebrow in question. 

“So, uh,” Simon starts when he’s in front of Baz. “I have a confession to make.” 

Baz waits, lowering the mail in his hand. 

“I heard you and Mordelia talking last night.”

Baz’s eyes go wide.

“Oh.”

“Is it true?” Simon asks, hopefully. “Do you have a crush on me?”

A pause. Baz’s eyes are searching Simon’s. For what, he doesn’t know.

Simon’s heart feels like it could beat out of his chest.

“Er,” Baz says. Simon doesn’t think he’s ever heard Baz stumble before. “Yes. You could say I do.”

Simon feels relief wash over him. 

He takes a step closer. 

“I have another confession to make.” He says quietly. 

Baz’s eyes are still locked on his, waiting.

“I like you, too.”

Baz blinks.

“You do?”

“Definitely,” Simon replies. 

A smile, a slight blush.

“Could I kiss you?” Simon asks. 

The nerves spark back up again.

Baz nods softly. 

Simon leans up, watching as Baz’s eyes slowly close.

When their lips touch he hears the mail fall to the ground and feels Baz’s arms wrap around his waist. 

“Could I come back over tonight?” Simon asks,  _ whispers _ , when they separate.

Baz, a smile still on his face, nods, and leans in for another kiss. 

Simon thinks, for a moment, that  _ this _ is their Renaissance. Their  _ rebirth _ . 

It certainly feels lively, dynamic, and real. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :).
> 
> Feel free to check me out on Tumblr, it's a Time.
> 
> [Caitybuglove23](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


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